Fierce(33)

He snorts. “You won’t be dressed for it when they attack you again either. Now c’mon.” He signals to me with his fingers, lifting his eyebrow only a little to taunt me.

I take a deep breath and place my hands on my waist. He’s gawking at me from a distance, bending through his knees like a professional wrestler. If the look on his face wasn’t so goddamn sexy, I would’ve shaken my head and walked away, but I can’t.

For some reason I’d love nothing more than to tussle with him.

“Well? Are you going to come at me or what?” he says.

Swallowing, I fling my arms and legs to shake some life into them after sitting for so long. I take a deep breath and a good look at him. His tan muscles are already primed, ready to go. He looks like a football player waiting for the ball to be thrown into his hands so he can race off.

“Don’t make me wait … I hate it when girls make me wait.”

I chuckle. “Oh, really? What then? Are you going to kick a wall again or something?”

He muffles a low laugh. “I’ll come after you myself if I have to. And things get rough with me pretty fast.”

There’s some sexual innuendo in there, I’m sure of it. The way he groans makes me want to bite my lip. God, he’s so hot.

Goddammit, I have to stop thinking like that.

No way a guy like him would ever fall for a nerd. He could pick any girl he wants. Who’d want to pick me?

Clearing my throat, I say, “Okay. Here I come.”

After taking a quick breath I bolt toward him. I put all my strength into it, but he still manages to stay upright as I crash into him. He’s like a rock in the ocean, forever unbreakable, and I’m the fish slapping up against it.

I try to tackle him, but instead I’m the one falling on my ass.

“Ouch!”

He laughs, so loud it makes me feel embarrassed. Everyone can hear him.

“Why are you announcing you’re going to attack? That’s like playing right into my hands,” he says, and he holds out his hand.

I grapple him and try to pull him down, but he remains as balanced as ever. Shaking the finger on his free hand, he says, “You think it’s that easy to bring me down?”

“I’ll make it happen. Eventually.”

He chuckles. “I like your spunk.” He takes a few steps back. “Try again.”

I clean the dirt from my legs and bite on my cheek while thinking about a tactic. If I could only get him to move, then I could take him down. I thought he was going to teach me something, but instead I’m charging into him. Not my idea of learning self-defense.

“C’mon. I can take you, Leafy,” he says, biting his lip.

That name he has for me … God, I hate it. Why can’t he just call me by my real name?

I’ve had enough of his provocations. Maybe I’ll just kick him in the balls instead. That’ll show him not to mess with me.

I know it’s below the belt. Literally. But at least I can try to win this way.

God, I’ve changed, too.

I charge forward without warning this time. As I lift my knee he deflects my leg by pushing it down with his free hand. With the other, he grabs my lower arm.

“You’re getting dirty.” He squeezes my wrist, hard, and makes it impossible for me to escape. “I like it,” he murmurs.

With clenched teeth I fight to get loose, but he won’t release me.

“Put a little effort into it,” he says. “Nobody’s going to be nice for you. I’m not either.”

I slam his arm with my free hand, but he still won’t let me go. It’s like he doesn’t feel anything. Nothing. Nothing at all.

Damn, is he some kind of brick wall?

He chuckles. “C’mon, hit me.” At first it sounds like he’s pushing me, but after a while it becomes plain mean. “Hit me!”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re a wuss. A boneless nerd. You can’t fend for yourself. Can’t live in the real world. Not even one day.”

“Shut up!” I gather all my strength and punch him so hard in the gut his stomach retracts, and he takes one step back. His grip on my wrist loosens, and I jerk myself free.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I say, my eyes welling up with tears again. “You’re being an asshole, and you know it.”

“Damn, that was a good jab,” he grunts.

“Who cares? You’re a bully.”

He laughs and steps forward. When I try to hit him again, he grabs both my wrists and comes to a halt right in my face. “I’m helping you.”

“Helping me? You’re insulting me, belittling me, and making me feel like a pile of crap.”

“And those guys didn’t?”